


Insomnia, but worse

by PoloniumT



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Also Charles and Ellie say bad words, Angst, Bad Dreams, Charles is trying to support his lover through the pain, Ellie is a good friend, Flashback chapters will be labeled. I promise that at least, Happy Ending, He can speak, Henry is a sad man, Henry is mostly mute, Insomnia, M/M, PTSD, Rated Teen for Trauma and Violence, Sad-to-Happy, TT ending AU, angst with happy ending, but by choice, pre-existing relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoloniumT/pseuds/PoloniumT
Summary: Henry Stickmin wasn’t trying to avoid sleep, per se. He was just trying to avoid those endless nightmares that caused him, his boyfriend, and his best friend harm. That’s all.AKA: PTSD-filled nightmares give Henry a reason to not sleep.Uses the “Triple Threat” ending of CtM, but with small edits.
Relationships: Charles Calvin & Henry Stickmin, Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin, Henry stickmin & Ellie Rose (Friendship)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 171





	1. Ch.1: Henry Has Nightmares

Henry was very sure that he was losing his mind.

After all, seeing phantom Toppat Clan soldiers in the corner of your vision wasn’t a normal thing, and neither was dreams about killing your best friend because they were on the Clan’s side. Neither of those were things a sane person would see, or deal with. Those were just a sample of the dreams, of course. He didn’t even want to remember the one with Reginald and Right-Hand-Man involved. He still swore he could taste and smell the amount of blood that one had.

Months of this had occurred since he, his best friend, and his partner destroyed what little hope the Toppat Clan had left. He knew they were dead and gone. He saw them be taken away, in bulk. He was there.

So why did he still dream of Right-Hand-Man slitting his and Charles’ throats in the middle of the night?

He remembered the time the terrors began. He remembers it, only because he can’t forget how he almost choked Charles with a pillow, or how he almost threw Ellie out of a window into the path of a car. He remembers the terror in their eyes as he almost killed them. He still couldn’t forgive himself, even if it’s been half a year.

He most certainly needed help, he knew. But why would anyone help someone who was far-beyond saving? Who’s willing to help a mentally unstable man who’s an ex-thief, has been on a government watch list, and has killed numerous people more times than a militia? 

No-one. That’s who.

“Henry? Henry!” 

Henry shot up in an instant, chest heaving. He looked around, noticing he was in his living room, with Ellie hovering slightly above him, a worried expression plastered on her face, with light bags under her eyes.

“Oh, it happened again, huh? Well, at least you got up before you started thrashing.” Ellie sighed, tapping on her older-than-a-fossil flip phone, which she had stubbornly REFUSED to upgrade. “Charles had a mission he had to do, but it’s not major. Just some little drop-off-then-leave sort of deal. He wanted to get you up earlier for a hug, but according to him, you were “more peaceful than when you started dating.” 

Henry looked away, his face warming up. Of course Charles cared. Or he was just here for pity. That was an option. That’s always an option.

“Henry, you really need to see a shrink about it. It’s getting unhealthy.” Ellie looked away from her fossil phone to Stare at Henry. “This stuff’s worrying Charles and I. It was okay at first, but now..”

“I know.” 

“Promise after Charles gets back, you’re going to see one? A real one?”

Henry nods.

He hopes he can keep this promise, at least. He was terrible at keeping the others. “Hey, Ellie?” “Yeah?” “How did you even get into my house in the first place?”

Ellie chuckled. “Your door was unlocked, you goof. Lock it next time.”

Henry grimaced. His memory was getting messed with, too. How great. 

The next thing that he knows, his luck’ll be messed up, too. ‘Oh, wait. It is.’ He mentally slapped himself.

“So, I gotta leave, Juneberri needs fed. See ya tomorrow, alright?” Ellie swung her satchel on, heading to the door.

“Alright, be safe.”

“And you find a shrink to fix your messed-up ass.“

“No, you-“

Before Henry could even attempt a retort to her admittedly true statement, the door shut loudly.

She was right, though. He did need help.

‘Tomorrow.’ Henry huffed to himself, drifting back off to try and get any sleep he could before he attempted to search for a therapist or a shrink.

How hard could it be?


	2. Ch.2: Dr. Hyubert Morales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry goes to a therapist, but it doesn’t end well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR:  
> -homophobic remarks  
> -verbal abuse by a medical professional 
> 
> Also, should mention Henry is mute to everyone but The General, Charles, and Ellie.

“So, any luck on the search, Henry?” 

Henry sighs, looking at Ellie with a tired smile. “About as much luck as I had robbing a bank.” 

“Man, there has to be one or two who’re willing!”

“Yeah, someone at least!” Charles piped in suddenly, manifesting in the doorway. “Also, sorry I’m a little late, Henry. I got some food.”

“Let me guess, Mountain Dew and tacos?” Ellie stretched out the ‘Os’ sound as she sat down.

“Nah, I got a churro.” Charles held up said churro.

“Really?”

“Hey, I don’t judge you! Let me eat my churros in peace.” Charles crossed his arms, glaring at Ellie.

“Alright then, muchacho.” Ellie giggled as Charles continued to shove the churro into his mouth, chomping angrily. “Henry, where exactly have you tried?” 

Henry looked at the slightly crumpled paper with his shoddy writing. He handed it to Ellie with a subdued expression. 

Ellie widened her eyes, whistling. “All these places refused you??” 

Charles snatched the sheet, huffing. He continued to munch on his churro as he read down the list. “Ah, Dr. Hyu May be worth another shot! That old fart knows me well.” 

Ellie and Henry looked at Charles with surprise. 

“I couldn’t sleep when I was younger. It was bad. Dr. Hyu helped me with it.” 

“But the receptionist said-“ 

“Fuck the receptionist! She ain’t Dr. Hyu!” Charles slammed a hand down, crushing the paper in a fist. “You’re getting help, even if I have to fly my Apache across the world to do it!” 

Henry shrunk down in his seat, feeling warmer than before. “You care that much..?” 

“Of course we do, Henry. You’ve helped us both with our shit. Time to help with yours!” Ellie smiled. 

“Besides, you need sleep. Your eyes are baggier than a wannabe gangster’s jeans.” 

They laughed, preparing for Henry to finally get some help. 

———

“Mr. Henry...Seinman?” 

Henry got up swiftly, shuffling his clipboard of paperwork nervously. He walked towards the receptionist, who held a small hand out for said clipboard. 

“Ah, let me see...” 

She swiftly skimmed through each paper, eyes acting like a typewriter but in reverse. 

“Everything is in order! You’ll be seeing Dr. Hyu Morales. Do you need me to show you where it is?” 

Henry shook his head, heading to the door that led directly to it. Despite how maze-like the corridor was, he found it easily. The black name plate read ‘Dr. H. Morales, Somnologist & Therapist’ in bright gold lettering. It felt official and garish. Henry raised a fist to knock, but was interrupted by a booming voice. 

“Ah, hello there! You must be Henry.” 

Henry whipped around to see a burly man in his fifties towering over him. This must’ve been-

“I’m Dr. Hyubert Morales, your therapist for this session. I heard from the receptionist that you tried calling before?” 

Henry nodded, slightly shrinking in the presence of the taller man. It felt heavy in the room.

“Ah, you’re mute. Fair enough! I’ll skip the small talk. I know most of why you’re here from your roommate, Charles-“

‘Roommate’. 

Henry tensed up at that word. He hated when people called Charles that word. It felt like blasphemy of the highest regard to dumb down his one thing into just ‘roommates’.

“-and your girlfriend also gave me your contact information. She’s a sweet girl. How long have you been together?”

Henry stared at the doctor with a serious expression. He wanted to scream at the doctor, but his voice was not in it, and neither was his tired heart. He did however, manage to mumble out a “you got it mixed up.”

“Ah, sorry. Such a shame that you and  
That girl aren’t together. You’d be a better couple.” Hyu shuffled through the paperwork calmly, as if he didn’t just gut Henry with that statement.

Henry was shaking. He was sure he was. The jittery movements told him such. Why couldn’t he get up and run??

Oh, right. He promised them he’d try to get better.

He glanced around the room, eyes darting every which way just to try not to look at the therapist. From a small clock, to a picture of a goose, to a plant, to a pen holder in the shape of a swan.

“Henry, can you tell me what exactly brought you here? Charles simply mentioned that you had some sleep issues.” Hyu tapped a pen on his clipboard expectantly.

Henry looked down, stomach sinking further into his body. He scribbled out a reply on his paper, quickening his pace after hearing the doctor clear his throat. He handed the doctor the note hastily, then fiddled with his sleeve while waiting for a response.

“Ah, so you’re having nightmares, my boy?” Hyu looked at Henry with a gaze “That’s more simple than the cases I normally get. Maybe you should just see a doctor instead of a therapist?”

Henry felt sick. He began writing again.

“Henry, don’t throw a temper tantrum. Just speak to me like I am to you. I know you can hear me.” Hyu grabbed the partially written note, ripping it slightly.

Henry was most definitely not having a good visit now. Didn’t this guy acknowledge his muteness??

“Now, like an adult, use your words.”

Henry could tell he was about to break into tears. “I. Can’t.”

“You just did, Henry! How can you not use your words when you just did?!” Hyu slammed his hand down.

Henry swallowed the pain. “Hurts.” He was straining at this point.

“All my other patients hurt to, Henry! At least they use their words!”

Henry knew that he was tearing up now. He didn’t need to check.

“There are people here who’ve dealt with more than nightmares, Henry. They’ve watched people DIE. They’ve been hurt, they’ve been attacked!” Hyu was now screaming. “And they act better than you!”

An alarm sounded from Hyu’s phone. 

“Now, this is the end of the session. Please get out. I have more pressing cases to take care of.”

Henry quickly left, ignoring all sensory input. He sped past the business men and the construction workers. He heard yelling, but not the subject of the yelling. 

Everything was foggy.

He didn’t even know he was at his house until he was on his doorstep. He opened the unlocked door, gently closing it. He dropped his papers on the floor, weakly walking to his bedroom. 

The next thing Henry remembered, he was sobbing into his sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr, Hyu is based off a therapist I went to once. Wasn’t as bad as him, but was damn close. Be safe when choosing therapists, kids.


	3. Ch. 3: Henry Pretends He isn’t Crying in a Shower at 5 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry wakes up for a shower, but instead gets trauma and his boyfriend trying to get him back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR:  
> -Minor Panic Attack  
> -PTSD Flashbacks  
> -Mentioned Nudity (non sexual)
> 
> NOTICE:
> 
> As for the previous chapter’s comments, I do know a doctor, nurse, or therapist shouldn’t act like that. I’ve had therapists who haven’t been rude and crass to me. It’s based on my first bad experience, so he’s not supposed to be a good person. He’s based on what my bad therapist did in the 1 hour session, with some parts added, some embellished, and some removed, of course. Just thought I would bring it up fully for everyone.

Henry woke up early. His hair was sweaty, matted, and he was sure he smelled like old socks. He searched around to see if he was, in fact, still in his room. Turning to Charles’ side of the bed, the cheap alarm clock was in full view. It read five twenty-seven AM. He looked down at his sleeping boyfriend.

Charles was splayed out beside him, limbs flailed out and headset left on the side table. He snored loudly, a light drool escaping the side of his mouth. Henry took a calm breath and began to wiggle out from under the cover he found himself somehow tangled in as Charles kept snoring, oblivious to his movements. Henry sped-walked to the bathroom, not caring to prepare clothes in advance. He was far too desperate for a shower. The cool tiles were the worst part of the bathroom, with the mornings always freezing and the temperatures during most of the year below that. Henry tried to play “the floor is lava” with the tiles, using towels or whatever was on the floor as a reprieve from the trap that was the tile floor. 

Too bad, however, Charles had JUST cleaned.

He mentally swore, preparing for pain as he quickly walked through what little he had to in order to get to the safety of the floor mat. Once he did, he got undressed and jumped into the shower before turning on the water. He liked the first spritz of the shower before the temperature leveled.

He sighed as a lukewarm stream of lightly pressurized water hit his shoulders, throwing his head forward for the spout to hit more of his neck. He busied himself as the water continued to warm, between counting the lines of grouting to the bottles of used up shampoo that he REALLY needed to sort out.

When the water was hot enough, Henry leaped into action, grabbing the cheap shampoo he got at some dollar store and getting to work. He could tell that this was a needed shower for how matted his hair was. The clumps took convincing, as did the thick oil that coated each strand.

The shower felt relieving, but his brain was still foggy. The memory of the previous day hit like a train. Each insult burrowed into various layers of his subconscious and his very soul. He continued ringing each phrase in sequence, each insult being played again and again. It became cacophonous, hurting his ears and head.

He felt himself weakly sliding down the wall of the shower, shaking from sobs and covering his head. This could not be any worse.

“Mn..Henry?”

Well, he should probably eat those words. 

Charles was standing at the doorframe, a blanket draped like a long, red cape across his shoulder. Henry chose to avoid everything else, choosing instead to hide as much of himself as he could.

“Hun, it’s nearly five in the morn’...Why’re you in the shower?” Charles mumbled, coming closer. 

Henry recoiled as Charles shut the valves off, the biting air hitting fast after the removal of his one heat source. He was glad the droplets of water hid his tears. “I..wanted to..be clean..” he stammered quickly, trying to not sniffle or hiccup.

Charles hummed thoughtfully. “Ah. I get that, Henry.” 

Henry was fairly certain Charles was very out of it. He blamed it on another late night. 

“Henry, how ‘bout you come back to bed? It’s too early for ya to be up..” Charles gently grabbed Henry’s hand, motioning to get up.

Henry faltered, worried about his nudity, the fact he was still dripping with water, considering that he was certainly not wanting to get the sheets wet.

“You think too loud...The bed’ll be fine..” Charles hummed, letting Henry barrel roll onto his side of the bed before maneuvering to his to flop on it.

“Sorry if I woke you up, Charles...” Henry muttered as Charles threw the comforter over the duo.

“Is fi-nuh, Henry ...” Charles groaned, holding Henry closer than he already was if that was even a possibility. 

Henry sighed, the warmth of the shower's residual heat, Charles, and the comforter too much for his weakened brain to stay lucid for. He slowly drifted off, the steady breaths of Charles and tweeting of songbirds his makeshift lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying despite my lack of uploading. 2020 hit me hard, and 2021 hasn’t been a good time so far. Hopefully, it gets better. I’ll try to upload more, but without Wifi, I only have my phone, and AO3 is BAD to write with on a phone that’s only, like...3” by 2”? (How big IS an iPhone 8 screen?!)


End file.
